If you're a follower of my newsletter, you may have read these words already, so bear with me.
Being an erotic romance writer is hard sometimes. Yeah, it's fun, but oftentimes
I question what I'm writing. Fiction is an escape, and I think that's why women
like to read hot sex scenes because they can imagine themselves inside of them.
Problem with this is it can make the reader start expecting "perfection" in
their own lives. Now, not all written sex scenes are perfect, but most of them
are or come pretty close. I've been struggling with this. I know that some
people are more susceptible to the idealistic thinking and unable to separate
reality from fiction, and I am sometimes one of those. I get moments when it's
all too perfect and rather irritating.
I've been uninspired to write
because of these thoughts. Therefore my short story took a long time in coming
this time. But then some of my writer friends gave me some advice. Why don't I
use how I feel in my writing? I thought of At Second Glance, my first
erotic romance. That book has a lot of reality in it. Yes, it's an erotic
romance, but the couple have struggled with sexual differences in the past. It
even broke up their marriage. Some of the sex scenes are a bit fanciful, I must
admit, although not overly so. But they also show how a bit of courage and
chemistry can heal the wounds of the past. And coming to think of it, don't we
all need an ideal to strive towards? Erotic romance shows us how things can be
sometimes. (Okay, not all of them. I have read some that are just...well,
really, do people do that in real life?) Like menage is one of them. I'm not
discounting the reality of it, I've just never heard of it happening in real
life. I'm sure it probably does, but it's rare. Yet, the amount of books that
have it in them supersedes the reality.
But the hot writing also gives us
fantasies and something to think about that may be exciting. I think women have
been oppressed for so long sexually. Only in the last few decades, have they
felt free to enjoy their sexuality. Erotic romance is a good part of us
breaking free and having a voice. It's good for young women to see how a good
sexual partner should be. Many of the books I read have heroes who are ideal.
Yes, they may have some character flaws, but in bed, they're amazing. And
shouldn't that be what we want to find in a man? So, I think it's good to set
the bar high. But sprinkle in a bit of realism in the mix too so we, as women,
are aware that we are human and also that the man is human too. To expect
perfection from anyone is cruel and unromantic.
So, I aim to mix realism
and a bit of idealism in my writing. And please know, that I don't speak for all erotic romance writers. I know some who have the ability to write hot and make us identify deeply with the main characters because they're real and true to life!
I would love to know what you think
on this subject. If you have any advice or strong thoughts about what I've been
contemplating, I'd love you to comment on my blog. Have I got it all
wrong? Have I missed the boat somewhere? Do you agree with my thinking?
If you want to read my latest April calendar story, it's available on Smashwords. You can get it for free as a follower of my blog with this voucher: SS94X. My other calendar stories are also there, plus I've put my short stories on Lulu here.
Thursday, 30 April 2015
Thursday, 23 April 2015
Sweetest Temptation Book Blitz
Sweetest Temptation by Tracey Rogers
Sweet Delights series, book 2
Available for 99cents/99pence for a limited time
Add to Goodreads:
Add to Goodreads:
The temperature's rising in the Sweet Delights Bakery…
Entering the most popular baking competition on TV wasn't shy bakery owner Vanessa Trent's idea. Especially as she prefers to steer clear of the media attention her famous family constantly attracts. But she desperately needs the prize money.
With his future on the line, Jake Walker vows to avoid trouble, which is difficult to do when it lands in his lap…literally. Vanessa Trent is out of bounds. He knows that. But if he can't resist her delicious cakes, how's he supposed to resist her?
Vanessa and Jake both have secrets to hide. Combine that with a vengeful ex-husband, sabotage, and throw in a little blackmail, and soon the spotlight falls on both of them. Temperatures rise, and it's chaos in the kitchen. Can they take the heat, or are they both about to get burned?
Content Warning: contains sensual sex and occasional strong language
Gripping the woman's wrist, Jake managed to restrain her before the weapon made impact with his head again. He shoved his upper body forward and flipped them both over.
Now this was much better. Or it would be if she'd quit squirming. Not that it was a bad sensation or anything, but he was starting to enjoy this more than the situation should allow.
With one hand free, her fingers scrabbled at the side of her. When her fingers wrapped around the torch he snatched it out of reach. He grasped her wrist and yanked both of her arms over her head, holding her captive with one much larger hand than her daintier ones.
Picking up the torch, he pointed it at the large, temple-throb causing weapon. As he read the first line on the bag he snorted in disbelief. Clearly she was a novice in the weapon department.
"A confectionery product? What the hell was that meant to be—death by chocolate?"
"God no," said the muffled, completely aghast voice from beneath her mound of hair. "I would never hit someone with chocolate."
Okay, so maybe she wasn't a threat to anyone at all. Jake released his grip a little.
"Chocolate is way too expensive to waste," she continued. "I hit you with a catering pack of marzipan."
He tightened his hold again. With her still wrestling beneath him, he decided out of fear for his man parts, it was time for some answers. Reaching out with his free hand, he brushed the silky strands from her face. She bucked beneath him like a stray cat fighting for freedom. At first he thought she was furious, but then he gazed into her green eyes and saw fear.
Although he took his work seriously—hell, sometimes caution had kept him alive—no way was he a monster. Waiting for her movements to abate he lifted his chest. In one smooth movement he traded position and surrounded her hips with his legs, trying to take away the intimate contact steering him from sound judgement, yet still stifling her leg movements with the grip of his thighs. Resting more on his knees than pressing his full weight into her, the increased gap between them gave him the perfect opportunity for another perusal of her small frame.
With her arms upstretched, her small breasts raised higher with each dragged in breath. Her shirt, trapped beneath his knees, pulled taut and had lifted to reveal her scarlet knickers and a hint of smooth, pale skin peeking above. He blinked. Maybe the glorious sight was a figment of his imagination due to his recent lack of female companionship? His gaze drew to her parted lips, open to allow the release of expended energy from her lungs. The fullness of her bottom lip was so damned tempting.
"Anytime you want to get the hell off me—please feel free."
Her sarcasm cut through his momentary lapse. One more second and he'd have been tasting her mouth.
"Tell me who you are, and why the hell you think you have a right to be on private property, and maybe I will." Just maybe.
With her fingers clenching beneath his palm, he felt the spike of her pulse at the pad of his thumb.
"Me tell you?" She blinked several times before glaring at him as though he'd just sprouted bunny ears. "I live here!"
Usually found with a pen in my hand, or my head in a book, I’m a contemporary romance author who also thinks fangs and wings are a very attractive accessory.
A devourer of books from an early age, imagination was my best discovery. I spent much of my childhood stepping into wardrobes, searching for that magical snowy world where conversing with animals would be expected. When I wasn’t searching for those worlds, I wrote about them instead. My first step into the world of romance was when I stole sneak peeks into my nana’s books. I’m still in that world and I refuse to leave.
I live in Staffordshire, UK, with my husband and three wonderful children. An avid reader and writer of romance, I strongly believe that words make the world go around. I like nothing more than to be swept away by the words on a page. I hope I can sweep you away too.
You can find Tracey here…
Tuesday, 21 April 2015
Character Interview and Spotlight for Audio Book - Rise of the Lost Prince
Rise of the Lost Prince by +London Saint James
Series: Lost Boys, book 1
Genre: Erotic, paranormal, fantasy, naughty fairy tale
Add to Goodreads
Listening Length: 5 hours and 1 minute
Program Type: Audiobook
Version: Unabridged
Narrator: John Thrust
Audible.com Release Date: February 26, 2015
Petúr always knew he and his brothers-in-arms were different. Something more. Something not human. Yet, he never expected to find out the truth of their origins, nor fall for a human woman whose father was set to destroy Neverland.
Ever since she was a child, Wyndi dreamed of an angel with eyes of the purest gold, although she never really believed such a man existed until she met the hauntingly beautiful Petúr of the lost boys.
With a prophecy to fulfill, a woman to protect, a
portal to find, and evil darklings out for blood, will Petúr be strong enough
to rise up and claim what’s rightfully his, or lose everything to a long-time
nemesis, Grapple the Dark?
Her tongue darted out, licking her lips. Was she
nervous? Well, he’d be the balm to soothe those nerves. He focused on her
mouth. Those delicious lips were kiss swollen and moist, making his cock strain
even more against the constraint of his pants.
“Okay,” she said in a small, breathy voice, the lids
covering her blue eyes at half-mast.
He reached for the hem of the too big nightshirt
covering the body he had to see, lifting until he revealed her little white
panties and lacy bra covered breasts. Blood raced through his veins. He wanted
to do everything with her. To her. Touch all over. Taste every inch of her. Put
his fingers and cock into the tight, warm sheath he knew was awaiting him.
Take her. Hell yeah. Those two words became a
chant within his mind. He wanted to take his woman in every position he could
imagine and then some. His woman? Yes. Yes she was his, or would
be. Slow your roll. You don’t want to scare her. He had to maintain.
He couldn’t go at her like some out of control beast.
Leaning down, he kissed between the creamy mounds of
her cleavage, skimmed his cheek across the apex of her right breast, watching
goose bumps scatter across her flesh in a wanton invitation. Unable to stop
himself from licking her, he lapped at her in one, long, lingering stroke, from
the top edge of the bra, up her collarbone, only stopping because the material
he’d lifted hindered his progress being bunched around her neck.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “You taste so good.”
She shook, and he wanted her shakes.
“I do?”
“Yes,” he answered, feeling her warm palms slide
down his biceps. Even that tantalized him. “I’m already addicted.” He went to
his elbows, slid his hands under her shoulder blades, arching her up, dropped
his head, grabbed the flimsy middle of her bra with his teeth, bit, and tugged,
ripping it free.
“Oh!” she uttered.
Moving the material aside with his nose, he pulled
back enough to see her, soaking every bit of her pink and white flesh in with
his eyes, before flicking a rosebud nipple with the tip of his tongue.
“Petúr.” He reveled in the sound of his name falling
from her lips, and sucked the nipple he’d been teasing into his mouth. “Mm…We
should stop.” He lightly bit. Swirled his tongue around the aroused nub.
“Oh…Never mind. Don’t stop,” she uttered, as she wrapped her legs around his
waist.
“Never stop. No.” He sounded like a Neanderthal, but
just then, when Wyndi pressed herself into his erection, he didn’t care.
London Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.
As an award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.
Blog: http://londonsj.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/LSJRomance
FB Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/London-Saint-James/154331444626603
TSU: https://www.tsu.co/Londonsj
googlecom/+LondonSaintJames
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/LSJRomance
You can also e-mail London with any questions or comments at London@londonsaintjames.com. She loves to hear from her readers.
Would you like to know more? Join her mailing list for her monthly newsletter http://eepurl.com/6P2on. Or, join her book group on Facebook, Slip Between the Pages with London https://www.facebook.com/groups/SlipBetweenthePageswithLondon/
Character Interview:
London’s lunch with the Lost Boys of
Rise of the Lost Prince.
LSJ: *Pulls up a seat and waves* Vapor.
Dash. Firefox. Vibe. Tera and Byte. Thanks for hanging out with me today. Did
you have any problems with my directions? I stink at giving directions.
Vibe: You’re welcome. Thanks for asking
us. *Glances around* You have a nice place here, and no, we didn’t have
problems finding you.
LSJ: Thank you. I’m glad you didn’t have
issues finding your way here. *Pours a glass of sweet tea and passes the
pitcher to Tera* Lunch will be ready in a minute or two. Burgers and ribs are
almost done grilling. I hope everyone likes BBQ.
Firefox: Love it.
LSJ: *Grins* Good. I wish Bell could
have come.
Vibe: She went with Wyndi and Petúr to
locate the portal.
LSJ: Do you think they’ll find it?
Dash: *Sits the pitcher of tea down on
the table* Wyndi said she had a vision. She seemed pretty sure of the location.
LSJ: *Nods* Sorry if I’m gawking.
Dash: Don’t be.
LSJ: It’s just…Well; you guys are some
of the best looking men I’ve ever seen.
Vapor: Thanks, sugar lips. *Winks* You
can gawk at me any time. *Gives me the once over* In fact. Let’s leave the rest
of these losers and go ‘gawk’ at each other in private.
LSJ: *Pats chest* You are the charmer,
Vapor.
Dash: *Snort* Vapor’s something, but I
wouldn’t go with charmer.
Vapor: Bite me, Dash. *Flips Dash the
bird*
*Firefox flings a flame from his fingers.
It arcs high, headed for Vapor*
*Vapor extinguishes the flame with a
ball of water that splashes when it hits the tiled floor*
Firefox: Stop flirting, water boy.
Vapor: What’s it to you, hot head?
Tera: Come on guys. Stop acting like
uncivilized roughians. *Smiles at me* Sorry, London.
Byte: Yeah. What he said. Sorry, London.
LSJ: You guys are fine. No worries.
*Takes a sip of my tea. Swallows* Do you guys always bicker?
Firefox: Most times. But, that’s just
how we are. Although, I’d die for any one of my brothers.
Vibe: We’d all do the same.
Vapor: We’ve all got each other’s backs.
LSJ: All for one and one for all, huh?
Tera: *Chuckles* Something like that,
but isn’t that the three musketeers?
LSJ: *Laughs* Yeah. I think it is.
*Buzzer sounds* Well, that’s my timer. I better go round up the burgers and the
ribs.
Tera and Byte: *In harmonized unison*
We’ll help you.
Vapor: I’ll help, too.
Firefox: Me, too.
Dash: *Groans*
Vibe: *Rolls his silver eyes*
LSJ: Sure guys. The more the merrier.
Follow me.
Vapor: *Puts his arm around my
shoulders* I’ll follow you anywhere.
LSJ: *Blushes*
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